


Getting Handy

by andabatae



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Awkward Ben Solo, Baking, Ben bakes pretentious muffins, Ben is a bit of a mess, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Loss of Virginity, Muffins, Rey is a repairwoman, Rey loves his pretentious muffins, Size Difference, Smut, Stress Baking, Unnecessary apartment repairs, Vaginal Sex, Virgin Ben Solo, if you know what i mean, so many muffins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21595942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: Ben’s not sure how to flirt with the woman who performs repairs at his apartment complex, so he keeps breaking things in order to see her again.Unfortunately, Rey now thinks he has an anger management problem...
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 246
Kudos: 1216
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts), Thirstie Gifting Season 2019 - The Thirst Order





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3todream3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3todream3/gifts).



> This is my Thirstie Secret Santa gift fic for 3todream3! It isn't smutty yet, but it'll get there. I hope you have a wonderful holiday season, and thank you for the gorgeous fics you've given the fandom!
> 
> Based on [this prompt](https://twitter.com/reylo_prompts/status/1198388380075249665): “Ben’s not sure how to flirt with the woman who performs repairs at his apartment complex, so he keeps putting in service orders for things that aren’t broken.”
> 
> I modified it a bit for comedic potential!

Ben Solo paced his kitchen, swearing foully at his sink as he waited for his landlady to pick up the phone. The garbage disposal had broken and the sink wasn’t draining, which meant he was left with a gross basin of slimy, food-filled water.

It was the first thing that had broken in his apartment in the six months he’d lived here, but it was extremely annoying, since he’d just made two batches of almond flour cranberry-spinach muffins sprinkled with nutritional yeast and chia seeds, and he had a lot of dishes to clean.

His ancient landlady, Maz Kanata, answered the phone at last, and Ben explained what the problem was. She promised her maintenance person, Ray, would be there within a few hours.

A few hours was way too long to go with messy dishes on his counter, but Ben would do his best to manage. It was a Saturday, after all—perhaps this Ray person had weekend obligations, although, in Ben’s humble opinion, both maintenance people and doctors ought to work seven days a week.

He occupied himself by meditating—the one good thing that had come out of eight summers at his uncle’s camp for “Emotionally Excessive Children.” With scented candles lit and a soothing soundtrack playing in the background, he breathed deeply and evenly, mentally repeating everything his therapist had told him.

_You can’t control any actions or reactions but your own._

_It’s okay to be less than perfect._

_Your need to dictate everything that happens around you probably stems from a childhood of dealing with constant chaos and never feeling heard._

Okay, he didn’t repeat the last one to himself on purpose, but it had stuck in his head, anyway. Ben’s need to control everything in his life had only gotten worse after his parents had treated him like there was something wrong with him. Yes, he wanted things in their proper places. Yes, he liked his environs to be neat and functional. Yes, he sometimes lost it when life spun out of his control. But could he be blamed for craving anything besides the disorder and screaming that entailed life with Leia Organa and Han Solo?

He didn’t think it was OCD—he’d done plenty of research on that—but it still stank of some kind of undiagnosed neurosis. Or was that just Ben’s tendency to find fault with himself? The problem with therapy was that it made a person aware of all the ways in which they were engaging with the world unhealthily (which was the only way Ben knew how to engage with the world, really), which meant he now had even more things to worry about.

Someone pounded on the door. Ben blinked rapidly, surfacing from his admittedly terrible attempt at meditation. It had only been twenty minutes, but maybe Ray was extremely prompt? If so, it would be a novel experience… but wait, that was Ben being overly pessimistic again. Shit, why was self-improvement so hard?

He opened the door, and—

Holy.

Shit.

A woman stood in front of him. She was _beautiful_. Hazel eyes, pink cheeks, kissable lips...

She was slim but tall for a woman, with a dazzling smile and brown hair caught up in an adorable three-bun hairstyle. She was wearing overalls, which were objectively the least sexy outfit any human being could wear, but they could have been lingerie for the effect they had on Ben. He gaped at her, unable to believe such an angel would be at his doorstep.

Shit, she wasn’t a Jehovah’s Witness, was she?

“I’m not interested,” he said, then winced. That was a complete fucking lie. He would probably convert in a second if it meant she kept smiling at him like that.

Her smile faded, and she cocked her head, looking confused. “I thought you had a problem with your sink?”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Sorry. I thought you were a missionary or something.” Now that he thought about it, baggy overalls weren’t exactly standard missionary attire, and she was carrying a toolbox, rather than a Bible. “Where’s Ray?”

She laughed, and the sound was the auditory equivalent of a burst of confetti, bright and sparkling. “I’m Rey. With an ‘e’. And I’m only a missionary if the cause is proper apartment maintenance.”

 _Rey with an e_. His new goddess. He stared at her, hardly able to believe he was standing this close to someone that pretty.

“So,” she said after a long, awkward silence. “Can I come in and fix your sink?”

Ben jumped. “Oh! Of course!” He stepped aside and ushered her in. Thank God he’d vacuumed last night and this morning. He cast a critical eye over his apartment, looking for anything out of place. Rey with an e was in his space, and he wanted her to be comfortable.

Oh no. His shoes were in the middle of the living room, rather than sitting on the rack by the door. “I’m so sorry,” he said, rushing forward to retrieve them. “It’s normally not this messy.”

She gave him an odd look. “Mr. Solo—”

“Ben,” he hastily interrupted her. “Er. My name is Ben. You can call me that, since it’s my name.” _Fuck_ , why was he so bad at this?

 _Don’t be so critical of yourself_ , his inner therapist chided him. _Your methods of communication are just as valid and appreciated as anyone else’s_.

“Ben.” Rey’s lips curved up after she spoke his name, as if she liked the sound of it. “I was going to say, your apartment is the cleanest I’ve ever seen. Way cleaner than mine.”

His heart rate accelerated. Oh, no. If she wasn’t an organized person, she might be uncomfortable here. “I can make it messier, if you like.”

Rey laughed. “You are too funny.” She shook her head, then turned to his sink. “All right, what’s the problem?”

It hadn’t been a joke, but even Ben knew better than to keep digging himself into that hole. “The sink won’t drain, and the fu-I mean, the freaking garbage disposal won’t work.” He flicked the switch to show her. “Stupid fu-stupid thing,” he grumbled.

She grinned at him. God, why was she smiling so much when he was a certified disaster? “You can swear around me,” she said. “In fact, I fucking encourage it.”

He could? It went against everything his mother had ever taught him but lined up with what his father had taught him, which normally meant he should go with his mother’s advice. But if Rey wanted him to swear... “Okay,” he said. “Good to fucking know.”

That earned him another laugh. Ben felt faint. How was he managing to make this goddess laugh? Did she have a terrible sense of humor, or was he actually succeeding at social interaction?

“All right, let me get in there and see what the problem is,” Rey said, opening her toolbox.

Two minutes later, his sink was fully operational. Ben watched the dirty water swirl down the drain, feeling oddly disappointed. Sure, his sink was back to normal, but that meant Rey would be leaving soon.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” she asked as she packed up her toolbox.

Ben looked wildly around, searching for any excuse to make her stay. Unfortunately, he kept his living space in good condition. “Can you taste my muffins?” he blurted out.

Rey blinked at him. “Uh, what?”

Just then, the timer dinged. Thank goodness. Ben grabbed an oven mitt. “I’m baking,” he said over his shoulder as he pulled the muffins out of the oven. “It’s a new recipe, so I’m not sure if it’s any good.”

“Oh!” Rey beamed at him, which nearly caused him to have a heart attack. “I love food. What kind of muffins are they?”

“Almond flour cranberry-spinach muffins with nutritional yeast and chia seeds,” he announced proudly.

“Wow.” Rey stared at them. “That’s… an interesting combination.”

“Thanks.” He waved the mitt over the muffins, willing them to cool faster. “I got the idea during my weekly baking meditation.”

“Weekly…” Rey shook her head. “You’re an unusual man, Ben Solo.” She was smiling while she said it, though, so she thankfully didn’t seem to mind.

Finally, the muffins were cool enough to try. Rey took a big bite, then hummed appreciatively. “You know, I was worried they’d taste weird, but that’s actually really fucking good.”

“Yeah?” Elated at the praise, Ben took a bite of his own muffin. It _was_ good—mostly savory, with a hint of sweetness from the cranberry. “I can make more for next time.”

“Next time, huh? Are you planning on breaking more appliances?” she teased.

If it meant seeing Rey again? Yes. Yes, he absolutely was.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben looked around his apartment, making sure everything was perfect. Or, rather, deliberately _im_ perfect. His shoes sat side-by-side in a corner of the living room, a clean plate rested on the coffee table (he hadn’t been able to bring himself to put a dirty plate there), and his area rug was off-center.

His skin itched to see his apartment looking like such a disaster, but to woo Rey with an e, he needed to trick her into thinking he was a somewhat normal human being. Normal human beings embraced clutter, right? She would hopefully feel right at home.

It was time for the next step of his plan. He took a deep breath, then picked up his toaster in one broad hand and flung it at the wall.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten to unplug it before doing so, so it jerked to a stop and then swung down into his shin. “Mother _fucker_ ,” Ben shouted as sharp pain ripped through him. He hopped up and down, cursing and holding his bruised shin.

God, why was flirting so hard?

Once Ben’s agony had ebbed to a mere fiery throb, he unplugged the toaster and tried again. This time, he succeeded, and the loud clatter as the toaster tumbled to the floor was oddly satisfying. 

His triumph was short-lived. Where the toaster had struck the wall, a ragged hole had been punched into the drywall. It was awful, a complete eyesore, and Ben had to close his eyes and count slowly to three-hundred to wrangle his mounting anxiety.

Maintenance people could fix walls, right? Maybe this was a good thing.

Just to be safe, he checked to make sure the toaster was actually broken. Unfortunately, it wasn’t, so he grabbed a hammer from his toolbox and set to work. A few minutes later, the toaster was dented nearly beyond recognition, and one of the knobs had fallen off.

Perfect. He set the severed knob next to the toaster, lined everything up at right angles, and then pulled out his phone to dial Maz and file an incident report.

#

A knock came at the door three hours later. By that time, Ben had already baked three batches of muffins, and a fourth was in the oven. Every spare inch of counter space was covered with them, and he had no idea where he was going to put the last batch, but he’d wanted to have fresh-baked muffins ready for Rey whenever she appeared.

He checked his appearance in the bathroom mirror, glad to see that his “Cuddle the Chef… Please?” apron was still spotless and unwrinkled—he’d ironed it twice that morning just to be safe. Then he took a deep breath and marched to the front door, heart already racing at the thought of seeing his goddess again.

Rey looked, if anything, even more radiant than she had the previous weekend. Her hair was half-up, half-down, and beneath her baggy overalls she wore a Star Wars T-shirt. Ben nearly melted on the spot.

“Hey!” she said brightly, smiling at him.

Ben stared at her, unable to form words. “Hhhh—” he finally managed, more an exhalation than an actual sound.

She bit her bottom lip, and Ben had never wanted to be a set of teeth before, but he was abruptly envious of those pearly whites. He wanted to touch her plush lips, to sink into them and taste the happiness they promised.

“So what’s broken this time?” Rey asked in her sweet accent.

“T-toaster,” Ben finally managed.

“Since the toaster didn’t come with your unit, normally I’d say that’s your responsibility to fix or replace, but I’m feeling generous.” She winked. “Want to show me the problem?”

Did he ever! The toaster was only the first of many, many things he wanted to show her. He ushered her inside, nearly dying when her shoulder brushed his.

“Wow,” she said, stopping short at the entrance to the kitchen. “That’s… a lot of muffins.”

“It is.” Ben surveyed his work proudly, imagining it as the kind of display a hunter-gatherer would have once put on for his mate. If she wanted to find a man capable of providing for her needs, she need look no further than that array of 72 perfectly formed, wholly organic muffins. “And there’s more in the oven.”

“Are you doing a bake sale?”

“Um… something like that.”

She bent over to eye one of the more colorful creations. “What flavor are these?”

“Carrot-quinoa with celery, basil, and ginger.”

Rey looked over her shoulder at him, dimpling adorably. “You make the oddest muffins.”

His chest puffed up with pride. That was the nicest thing anyone had said about him in _years_. “Thank you. The next batch over is raspberry with lemon curd, topped with orange blossoms, and that batch is chocolate zucchini oatmeal with truffle shavings. The batch in the oven is squid ink with anchovies and walnuts.”

She looked either impressed or a little horrified—Ben wasn’t quite sure which. “Squid ink?”

“It adds a rich, briny flavor to dishes, and the muffins look black, which is fun.” About the most fun Ben ever had, in fact. He couldn’t wait to have her taste those. “Want to try the carrot-quinoa first?”

Rey chuckled. “I’m starting to think you’re breaking things on purpose just to lure me here and make me sample your muffins.”

Ben laughed awkwardly. “Of course not.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “I’ll try your muffins after I look at your toaster. Now where is…” She trailed off when she spotted the wreckage of his toaster sitting underneath the hole in the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Ben ran a hand through his hair, growing even more nervous. “It was the weirdest thing. I was toasting some bread and then _bam_ , it just… launched away from me.”

“Into the wall,” Rey said flatly.

“Maybe it had some kind of, uh… electrical failure?”

She picked the toaster up, eyeing the copious dents and scratches covering its surface. “This doesn’t look like an electrical failure.”

“Oh.” Ben stuck his hands in his pockets and tried for a nonchalant shrug, but his shoulders were tense, and he ended up just hunching awkwardly. “Well, you’re the expert. Do you think you can fix it?”

She eyed him in a suspicious way that made him even more nervous. “I can work on smoothing out some of these dents, and I can glue the lever back on, but at this point, you may just want to buy a new toaster.”

“Great!” He clapped his hands, and Rey jumped. “I’ll buy a new one. Want to try a muffin now?”

Rey shook her head. “I need to look at this hole in the wall. You should really be more careful with your things.” Her pretty mouth was turned down, and Ben abruptly felt like the worst person in the world.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as his stomach plummeted towards his toes. “It was an accident.”

She patted his arm. “I understand. We all have… accidents sometimes. Just do your best, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

She’d touched him. Holy shit, she’d touched him, and she didn’t want him to get hurt. His mood seesawed wildly between despair and joy, and he resisted the urge to cradle the spot where her hand had rested. Maybe his sleeve would be warm from the brush of her fingers. Maybe it would smell like her after she left.

He watched with his hands clenched tightly at his sides as Rey measured the hole and jotted down some notes. Then she pulled equipment out of her bag, including a mesh patch, and started fixing the damage he’d wrought.

The silence felt tense, but that might have just been in Ben’s head. Lots of things were in his head. He did his best to make reassuring sounds anyway, putting on a light classical playlist and humming along while he pretended to poke at the muffins.

The patch job was done right about the time the squid ink muffins came out of the oven. Ben had to put the new batch on his coffee table, which bothered him immensely, but he gritted his teeth and bore the disorder for Rey’s sake. She deserved fresh muffins, even if they weren’t plated and displayed to his satisfaction.

“That smells good,” she said, sounding surprised.

Ben gestured excitedly at the cooling morsels. “Eat some! They pair well with a pinot gris, if you’re interested.”

“Um, no thanks. It’s only eleven AM.”

“Oh.” Ben looked at the clock. “I guess it is. Want to sample the muffins, though? I feel bad for making you come out here to fix… you know.” He gestured vaguely at the wall. “My toaster problem.”

Her face softened as she regarded him. “Don’t be sorry. We all struggle sometimes. And sure, I’ll try your muffins.”

Ben didn’t know what struggle she was talking about, but he wasn’t about to ask. She wanted to eat his muffins, which meant his plan to prove himself as a provider and potential mate was succeeding. Maybe next time he would break something in the evening, and then they could have a proper date with wine and a home-cooked meal.

They sat on his couch and sampled the muffins together, and Rey gradually seemed to relax. Soon they were laughing and joking like long-time friends—or at least, Ben was talking and Rey was laughing as if he was telling jokes, and that was good enough.

“So,” she said after swallowing an enormous bite of squid-ink muffin, “how did you get into baking?”

“My uncle taught me,” Ben said. “I went to the summer camp he ran when I was a child, and he was always baking something. I find it soothing. There’s nothing more calming than baking after a long, hard day.”

“I get that.” Rey patted his forearm gently, sending another thrill through him. “Maybe next time you think you’re about to have a… toaster problem, you can bake something, instead.”

He hummed around a mouthful of muffin and nodded. Once he’d swallowed, he was able to answer her. “I don’t know if I can predict when my toaster will break, but you’re right. I prefer muffins to toast, anyway.”

Her eyes crinkled as she smiled widely at him. “That’s a very positive attitude. I’m proud of you.”

His heart swelled. Rey with an e was _proud_ of him, and even if he wasn’t totally sure why, that was the best news he’d heard in forever. Ben couldn’t remember the last time someone had been proud of him. Maybe his parents had once found him charming, but his childhood anxieties and nightmares had quickly become an irritant to everyone in the household—Ben most of all, although they had never seemed to believe that he found his neurotic brain just as frustrating as they did.

“Thank you,” he said, struggling not to cry. “That means a lot.”

“Oh, Ben.” She looked at him with such sympathy in her gorgeous hazel eyes, and then, to Ben’s shock, she leaned in and hugged him. She smelled like wildflowers and a hint of engine oil, and her slim arms felt surprisingly strong wrapped around him.

Ben’s hands trembled as they lifted to rest on her back, aiming for a spot that was neither too low nor too high. This was heaven, and he never wanted it to end.

She pulled back, taking a little piece of his heart with her. “I have to go now,” she said, rising to her feet, “but thanks for the muffins. And I hope you feel a little better.”

“I do,” he swore, jumping to his feet. “I feel amazing. You really made me… yeah. Anyway. Thank you for fixing my wall.”

“Anytime.” Her smile faltered a little. “Although I hope for your sake you don’t have any more mishaps like that.”

“Oh, I will,” he vowed. “I definitely will. And then you can try more muffins!”

“That’s… huh.” Rey chewed her lip, then backed towards the door. “Well, I hope you have a good day. And remember—when you’re stressed out and think you might have an accident, you can always bake instead.”

Ben stood in the doorway and waved until she disappeared into the stairwell, then slumped back against the wall, a hand pressed to his chest. His heart tapped a giddy rhythm beneath his palm.

Date two with Rey couldn't have gone better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, the chapter count's going up. I don't know how to be succinct to save my life 😂


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy TROS week!

Ben flung his apartment door open a second after he heard the knock.

Rey jumped back in alarm. “Whoa. Were you, like, hiding behind the door or something?”

Yes. Yes, he had been. Unable to deal with the anticipation of seeing her again, and having already finished preparations for date three, he’d fixed himself at the peephole to wait for her. Of course, Ben couldn’t admit this, so he mustered his best lying face and said, “Uhhhhhh…”

Rey’s lips quirked. She shook her head and poked him gently in the shoulder. “You’re cute, Ben Solo.”

Then she headed into the apartment, leaving Ben quivering with rapture in the entrance. Rey with an e thought he was _cute_. He might just expire on the spot. He gazed after her longingly, admiring how her baggy overalls and white tank top highlighted her slim frame and set off the gold tones of her skin. Her hair was up in three little buns again, and his lips quirked at this hint of whimsy. Fuck, she was perfect.

“Okay if I head straight into the bathroom?” Rey called over her shoulder, which propelled Ben into motion again.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, hurrying after her. “It’s just off the living room. I mean, obviously, since this is a one-bedroom apartment. There aren’t that many places it could be.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Anyway, there it is!”

Rey had stopped in the entrance to the bathroom. She turned to look at him with wide eyes. “What happened?”

Just a masterpiece of carefully-staged destruction, designed to lure her in and keep her in his apartment for hours. “Oh,” Ben said, trying to act nonchalant. “It was the weirdest thing. I was brushing my teeth and lost hold of the toothbrush, and it hit the mirror and broke it.”

“Ben,” Rey said quietly, “your mirror is in about a thousand different pieces. That’s… a lot for a stray toothbrush.”

He shrugged. “Poor construction, I guess. Oh, and the toilet won’t flush.” Because he’d snapped the chain. “And the shower temperature dial isn’t working.” Because he’d whacked it with a hammer until it was too dented to move. “And my fridge is acting up, and one of my windows won’t close anymore, and I made some more muffins and also dinner for us, and—”

“Hold up.” Rey raised a hand to interrupt him. She was staring at him like he was a lunatic—and he supposed an argument could be made that he was. “This is way more damage than you put in the incident report to Maz. All of this happened this week?”

Rey’s frown was doing funny things to Ben. Namely, making him feel sick to his stomach. “...Yes?”

Rey sighed, and her shoulders slumped. “How many of these problems are due to blunt force trauma?”

Damn it, had she caught on to his scheme? Ben shifted guiltily from foot to foot. “A few.” Why did she look so disappointed? “Don’t you… don’t you like having things to do?” he asked hesitantly.

Rey muttered something to herself, then shook her head. “Whatever. I need to sweep up this glass before I can do anything about your shower or your toilet. The mirror’s toast, obviously.”

“Oh!” He should have thought about the safety hazard the shattered mirror presented. “Let me sweep that up. I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

He gently touched her elbow, rejoicing when she didn’t shy away from the touch, and nudged her towards the kitchen. “Have some vegan rosemary-avocado muffins while you wait,” he suggested. “Not too many, though, because you don’t want to spoil your appetite for dinner. I made lasagna!”

She gaped at him. “Ben, what—”

“I’ll be out in a jiffy!” he said cheerfully, grabbing the broom, dustpan, and cleaning supplies from his closet.

Ten minutes later, his bathroom was sparkling clean once more, and Ben felt a wash of contentment at seeing his space in order again—minus the mirror, of course. Wreaking so much havoc on his apartment made him nervous, but it was worth it to get to see Rey.

When he emerged from the bathroom, he found her tinkering with his window. “This is weird,” she said. “It looks like there’s superglue in the cracks.” She put her hands on her hips, frowning pensively at it. “You don’t have a kid running around here, do you?”

“Ah, no.” Ben shifted from foot to foot, then raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve actually never even had a girlfriend.”

It was embarrassing to admit, but he wanted to make sure Rey understood how seriously he took their growing connection. Hopefully she would forgive him any faux pas he made as a result of his inexperience.

Her eyebrows shot up. “Really? But you’re so…” She trailed off, looking him up and down in a way that made Ben flush. “Big,” she finally said.

“Oh.” Ben couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. “I guess I’m pretty tall…”

She nodded. “And you look like you work out, and your hair is great, and your eyes and nose and mouth are…” Now it was her turn to blush. “Sorry, that’s really inappropriate. I’m just surprised you’ve never dated anyone.”

His heart was doing somersaults in his chest. “Really?” he breathed. “But my personality is… well, I’ve always heard that I’m a little… much.”

Her open expression seemed to shutter, and she looked away from him. “You’re sweet to me,” she said. “I think you just have a few things you need to work through. You know, before you should date anyone.”

He didn’t want to date _anyone_ ; he wanted to date _her_. Was she rejecting him before he’d had a chance to ask properly? _You have a tendency to catastrophize_ , his inner therapist reminded him. _Take a deep breath and ask for clarification_. “What should I work on?” he asked. He would do all of it, any of it, if it meant he actually got a chance to be with this beautiful woman.

She sighed and looked towards the bathroom. “Well, that mirror, for one thing. That’s pretty concerning.”

He blinked at her, wondering why having a broken mirror precluded a romantic relationship. “I can buy a new one.”

“That’s not the point.” She stepped closer to him and lifted a hand, hesitating a moment before laying it on his chest over his heart. Could she feel the way his heartbeat sped at her touch? “I can’t explain why,” she said, “but I feel like I’ve known you forever. And the way you act around me is so gentle and sweet, so I’m sure you’d be good in a relationship, but when I see things like that mirror or the toaster…”

The oven timer went off, and Ben cursed it for having horrible timing. “I need to take the lasagna out of the oven before it burns,” he said, “but then I want to come back to this.”

He retrieved the lasagna, pleased to see it had cooked perfectly. He carved two slices and plated them, then brought them over to the coffee table. “Would you like wine with dinner?” he asked as he set the cutlery—rolled in black cloth napkins—on the table, then lit two taper candles. “This pairs well with a nice sangiovese.”

Rey didn’t say anything, just stared at him with crossed arms and narrowed eyes.

Ben fidgeted self-consciously, wondering if there was something on his face. “Or a zinfandel,” he said. “Or a cabernet sauvignon would also pair well.” When she still didn’t say anything, he scrambled for more things she might want to drink. “Or water. Or milk, even. I picked up some juice, too, and since I didn’t know what you’d like, there are eight different flavors…”

“Ben,” she said slowly, “Are you… do you think this is a date?”

His entire body flushed hot, and his stomach swooped with nervous anticipation. It was all out in the open now: their dance of attraction, his subtle attempts at wooing her. _Be brave and honest_ , his therapist told him. “Yes,” he whispered, then cleared his throat and said it louder. “Yes, I’d like it to be. If you want it to be, too, of course.”

Her mouth open and closed a few times. “I…” She shook her head as if clearing it. “I don’t understand. The mirror...”

“Forget the mirror.” Ben waved that concern aside. “I’ll get a new one tomorrow. In fact, forget all the maintenance items. You don’t need to fix them, and honestly, most of them are outright broken, so they’ll need to be replaced, anyway.”

“That’s what worries me,” she said. Her expression was soft, but it didn’t look like excitement or happiness or lust or anything else he had gleefully imagined a thousand times—it looked awfully, horribly like pity. His stomach plummeted, and no amount of kind self-talk or meditation would fix this hurt. She was about to reject him, and then he would _die,_ and—“If I hadn’t seen that mirror,” Rey said, “I would have said yes, but I can’t date you until you get some help for your issues.”

His mind spun, torn between so many different emotions he didn’t know how to begin psychoanalyzing himself. _Seek clarification_. “You aren’t saying yes, but you would have? So that’s a… maybe?” Christ, women were confusing. The only thing he knew was that she seemed distressed by his broken mirror. Maybe chaos and disorder made her nervous, too? “I do get help for my issues,” he promised. “I call you when things are broken, and I buy new ones when they can’t be fixed...”

She shook her head. “You can’t just cover up your outbursts by throwing money at them. You need to get some help, Ben. Find a therapist to talk to.”

 _Outbursts_. How did she know about his occasional panic attacks? “Oh, wow,” he said. “I didn’t realize you’d picked up on that. But I do have a therapist. I’ve been going to her for years, and she really helps with my anxiety. She also gives excellent baking advice.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But you need to talk to her about your anger management problems, too.”

Ben’s head spun. “What? I don’t have anger management problems.” Did he? Shit, this was going to give him another complex.

Rey sighed, looking sad. “If you can’t even acknowledge it, that’s even more concerning.” To his immense distress, she stepped around him and headed towards the door. “I think, considering everything, I should leave. I can come back tomorrow to fix the rest of your maintenance problems.”

“Rey, wait.” His eyes blurred with tears, and he held his hand out after her. “Don’t leave. Please?”

She looked equally upset. “I’m sorry, Ben. I really like you. I just… yeah. My childhood wasn’t the best, and seeing that mirror… well, it brought back some bad memories. Please don’t punch anything else, okay? I don’t want you hurting yourself.”

Punch it? Jesus, why would he do something with such a high probability of causing permanent physical damage? Although if someone had been horrible to her in her childhood, he could see the appeal of violence…

The door closed after Rey, leaving Ben standing alone in his living room. 

She was gone. Just like that. And all because she’d seen his broken mirror and for some reason assumed he had an anger management problem...

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

 _Oh, fuck_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! It'll all be okay, I promise!
> 
> It's TROS week, which is causing us a lot of anxiety (Ben isn't the only one lol). Please don't talk about the movie in the comments, even in vague terms--people are getting spoiled right and left even by vague references to people's emotional states after hearing how the movie ends. I do not know how it ends and have no desire to know, so I won't even be looking at comments until Friday.
> 
> But! I will be delighted to read any comments you have then, so please do let me know if you enjoyed it!
> 
> Love you, and may the Force be with you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! It took a while to get back in the writing headspace post-TROS, but the smut is flowing once more. Enjoy!

Ben spent the morning after his disastrous attempt to woo Rey cleaning and putting his space in order. The chaos had been bothering him, anyway, and clearly his plan to get her to date him had been a complete and utter failure.

He winced as he reflected on their conversation. _Anger management problems_. In retrospect, he could acknowledge that his maintenance issues must have looked alarming to an outside party. He couldn’t believe he’d been such a fucking idiot, but in his defense, he hadn’t been thinking straight. He’d been bewitched by her smile and her eyes and her wit and… just everything. The whole magical package that was Rey with an e.

Of course, being Ben Solo, Walking Human Disaster, he’d managed to ruin everything in the most dramatic way possible. He’d broken a lot of essential things in his apartment—the lack of hot water in his shower and the need to manually flush the toilet were particularly distressing—and he’d convinced the girl he was infatuated with that he had a rage problem.

Once everything was as clean and presentable as he could get it, Ben went to the kitchen to start some sad baking. He would need to find a new maintenance person, obviously—he didn’t want to make Rey uncomfortable—which meant explaining what he’d done to Maz. The thought threatened to send him into a panic spiral, and since it was all just a little too much to handle at the moment, he took out his frustrations on some muffin batter.

For once, he didn’t think about the flavor profile of the muffins; he just added whichever items best reflected his mood. Squid ink to symbolize the black cloud of despair hanging over him. Cranberries to depict his wounded heart. Turmeric because it was yellow and he was a horrible coward who should have just asked Rey out normally. He cried a little into the batter by accident, but he figured the extra salt content from his tears would enhance the flavor, so he cried some more. He also added ingredients that represented Rey’s sweetness and vibrance: brown sugar, saffron, nutmeg, and ginger.

These muffins were going to taste like shit, but Ben vowed to eat every single one of them as atonement for his idiocy.

He’d just removed them from the oven and set them on his counter to cool when a knock sounded at his door. Ben’s heart lifted for a giddy second, then dropped again. There was no way Rey would come back, and since Ben didn’t really have any friends, it was probably a FedEx delivery of the new baking equipment he’d ordered earlier that week.

He shuffled to the entrance, swiping at his tears with the back of his wrist, and was still sniffling when he opened the door…

...And found Rey standing there in her baggy overalls, toolbox in hand.

He gaped at her. “Why are you here?” he blurted.

She looked startled by his appearance, too. “I said I’d finish the last maintenance items. Are you… is everything okay, Ben?” She lifted one small hand and rested her perfect, calloused fingertips on his face, dabbing at his tears. “Why are you crying?”

“I can’t believe you came back,” he said, shivering as she rubbed a thumb over his cheek. Her gorgeous brow furrowed as she looked at him with concern. Being the recipient of her compassion broke something in Ben, and words started pouring out of him. “I must have made you so afraid,” he said, “and I’m so sorry, I never meant to. I didn’t break those things on purpose—or I did, but not because I was angry, just because I wanted to see you again. I thought if you had enough things to fix you would stay and we could talk and maybe you’d eat some muffins and want to hang out more, but I scared you, and I’m so, so sorry—” He broke off as more tears overflowed. That last bit was what he felt worst about—that Rey might have felt unsafe in his presence.

Rey blinked a few times and shook her head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry, what?” she asked in that heartbreakingly perfect British accent. “You broke things because you wanted to see me?”

“It sounds ridiculous because it is.” Ben took a deep breath. This was mortifying, but he needed to make sure she understood. Not to win her over romantically—there was no chance of that now—but to make her feel safer. “I’m just… I’m really nervous, Rey. I’m an anxious person, and from the moment we met, I’ve been hopelessly enamored of you, but I never date, and I didn’t think you’d want to see me without a reason, so I… made reasons.” He winced. “I basically trashed my apartment so I could see you again, which is dumb on so many levels, but the worst part is that I made you afraid. I never want you to feel afraid or worried or uncomfortable, so… yeah. I’m really, really sorry, and you never have to see me again after this, but I wanted you to know.”

His shoulders slumped. He’d given her all the words he had to give, and he knew they weren’t elegant or particularly coherent, but it was the best he could do. Hopefully it would be enough to earn her tolerance, if not her forgiveness.

Rey’s eyes widened, and her pretty pink lips parted. Then, to his confusion, she giggled, a bright pop of sound. “You broke things so I would have to come fix them,” she said in a wondering tone. “That’s… actually kind of adorable.”

“It… is?” Ben felt like he’d been flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. His insides churned like a yo-yo. “It isn’t pathetic and contemptible and unforgivable?”

Rey stepped closer to him, both of her hands coming to land on his chest. Since only yesterday she’d been convinced he was a violent brute, Ben kept his arms at his sides, resisting the temptation to settle his hands on her waist.

“It isn’t any of those things,” she said softly, her eyes darting between his eyes and his lips. “But I want a full explanation. Inside your apartment.”

And that was how Ben found himself ushering the girl of his dreams into his apartment only a day after he thought he’d ruined his chance at happiness forever.

#

Ten minutes later, they were seated next to each other on the couch, holding matching mugs of tea—at Ben’s insistence, because his mother had taught him there were certain inviolable rules of hospitality that needed to be followed, no matter the circumstances. Ben was just finishing up a halting, mortifying rendition of the events that had led up to this moment, from the muffins to the intentional destruction of his own property.

“When you told me the broken mirror brought back bad childhood memories, I…” He trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut. “I feel awful that I scared you, and I also want to punch anyone who made your childhood bad, but does that make me the angry guy you thought I was? I don’t know.” He shook his head. “This is confusing and terrible.”

Rey set her mug down on the coffee table, then scooted closer to him. “Ben,” she said, cupping his face in her hands as she smiled up at him, “You’re amazing.”

His heart and brain stalled out. “Uhhh,” he said. “That’s… I’m not sure that’s true. No one has ever said that before.”

“Oh, baby.” Rey caressed his cheeks, and the combination of her touching him and calling him an endearment after he’d just bared his soul to her was making Ben’s dick twitch in a confused manner. “You deserve to hear it. And I’m sorry no one has said that to you. From what I’ve seen, you’re a sweet, smart, adorable man with the body and face of a god and the skills of a contestant on the Great British Bake Off.”

“Oh.” Ben’s cheeks turned hot—hell, his entire body turned hot—and he clawed at his hair to try to cover his ears, which were undoubtedly turning pink. “That’s… I have no idea what to say.”

Rey beamed at him, a smile that made Ben feel like he’d been bathed in sunshine. “Don’t say anything. Just take the compliment, and maybe let me sample one of those muffins I saw cooling in the kitchen.”

She pushed to her feet, and Ben was too mesmerized by the sway of her hips as she strode away to fully process the words. It was only when she lifted a grief muffin to her mouth that he remembered how godawful it was likely to be. “Rey, no, wait—”

She froze mid-chew, a strange look passing over her face. Her jaw worked, and then she swallowed and set the muffin back down on the counter. “Uh, wow,” she said. “That was… good. What exactly is in it?”

He moaned and buried his head in his hands. “You don’t have to lie,” he said glumly. “I threw a bunch of random ingredients in there that depicted my emotional state. I was going to eat them as penance.”

He heard a choking sound and looked up in a panic, hoping she wasn’t about to die in his kitchen, but Rey had a hand clapped over her mouth and was clearly trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled from behind her hand. “It’s not funny. Not funny. Just… muffin penance...” She collapsed into giggles. “Shit, I’m so sorry,” she gasped between laughs. “I’m being so rude.”

Even though Ben’s ears were blazing with mortification, the sight of her laughing was so charming he couldn’t help grinning in response. And, now that he was thinking more clearly—albeit barely—he could acknowledge there was a certain comedy to the situation. Eating awful muffins as penance for running Rey off was the kind of thing his therapist would call “an excessive response to ordinary emotional stimuli” while eyeing him with amused pity.

Ben got up and crossed to her, then dared to put a hand on her shaking shoulder. “You’re not being rude,” he said. “It’s pretty ridiculous, even for me.”

She straightened and wiped her eyes. “So what were the ingredients?”

Ben eyed the line of black muffins, which weren’t even uniform, since he’d been crying a lot while pouring the batter. “Squid ink, cranberries, turmeric, saffron, nutmeg, ginger, brown sugar, and…” He coughed, catching himself just in time. “Never mind.”

“And what?” Rey prodded.  
  
Okay, maybe he hadn’t caught himself in time. “Tears,” he muttered.

Rey’s eyes widened, but instead of laughing again, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled into his dark knit sweater. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Ben’s hands hovered over back, unsure where to land. “No, no,” he soothed, patting her awkwardly. “It was my fault. You’re a goddess, Rey, and I’m just—”

She broke away to scowl up at him. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Ben Solo. You aren’t _just_ anything.” And then she tugged him down into a kiss.

Ben nearly fainted. Her lips were soft, and she tasted like coffee and mint and, okay, maybe a bit of terrible muffin, and he never wanted to taste anything else again in his life. He kissed her back with clumsy enthusiasm, moving his head back and forth the way he’d seen people do in the movies.

Her eyes fluttered open. “Okay, first of all,” she said, pulling back slightly, “you can close your eyes.”

“Oh.” He’d been going nearly cross-eyed trying to take in every detail of her freckles and eyelashes. He swallowed hard, realizing he’d already fucked up kissing, and they’d barely started. “Sorry, I—”

“Second of all,” she said, cutting off his apology, “I want you to put your hands on my ass.”

Ben made a garbled noise. His brain completely shut down, and his hands shot out, grabbing her and yanking her into him. He kneaded the muscled curve of her ass, internally rejoicing as she shivered and leaned into him.

“Bed,” she said breathlessly.

It could have been a mispronunciation of his name. Just to be safe, Ben checked. “Are you saying… you want to be in bed? My bed? With me? Both of us in bed at the same time?”

She grinned up at him. “Yes, Ben. I want to be in your bed with you, and I don’t mean to sleep. I want to kiss you and touch you and have you touch me back. If that’s okay with you?”

In response, Ben made a strangled sound, then scooped her up in his arms and practically sprinted towards the bedroom. He was never more thankful for his compulsive habit of washing his bedding and towels every few days than now, as he set her down on the soft, navy blue bedspread of his king-sized bed. The sheets beneath were his best, which hopefully meant they would be soft enough for her precious skin, and they’d been folded with precise military corners.

Rey didn’t seem to care about military corners, though. She tossed the bedspread off the bed entirely, then set about mussing up the sheets as she wriggled and… oh, holy shit, she was unhooking her overalls and shoving them down over her hips and…

Ben’s brain blanked entirely as she kicked her shoes off, then shoved the mass of fabric off to reveal long legs and simple white panties. He wasn’t sure what noise he made then, but it must have been concerning, because she stopped moving and frowned at him.

“Is this okay?” she asked. She sat up abruptly. “Shit, sorry, I’m probably going way too fast...

“No!” he barked out way too loud. “No, this is great, the _best_ , I just…” He trailed off, gaze drawn to the juncture of her thighs.

“Just what?” she asked. She grabbed his hand, then tugged until he was half-kneeling on the bed. “Tell me, Ben.”

“ _I’veneverdonethisbefore_ ,” he said in a rush.

He expected her to look disappointed or disgusted, but instead, she smiled. “I don’t mind,” she said softly. “In fact, the idea is actually really hot. So long as you’re comfortable with this?”

Ben’s brain was buzzing a thousand miles a minute, but the thoughts were largely incoherent variations on _holy shit I might see her naked_ and _sex sex sex?_ and _oh god what do I do_. “Can you… clarify?” he said, struggling to regain some control over his synapses. “What ‘this’ is. That I need to be comfortable with. Because the answer is yes to anything, everything, but I don’t want to assume...”

“I want to have sex with you,” Rey said bluntly, pulling on his hand again until he collapsed on his side next to her. “I know this is fast, so we don’t have to, but I’ve had a crush on you from the start, and now that I know you don’t have an anger management problem…”

Ben winced at that reminder of his massive flirting failure. “Yeah, no anger management issues, just a lot of anxiety. But I want this, Rey. So much. I’ve been enraptured by you from the moment you appeared on my doorstep.”

“You’re so sweet,” she said softly, and then she was rolling over and climbing on top of him, and then her mouth was pressed against his, and Ben’s entire world narrowed down to five-foot-something of warm, delicious woman in his arms.

 _Close your eyes_ , he reminded himself. _Be present in the moment_ , he thought next, channeling his therapist. If he worried about his kissing technique, he’d lose track of the fact that Rey was kissing him of her own free will—that she seemed _excited_ to be doing so.

She licked at the seam of his lips, then moaned when he parted them to allow her tongue in. The soft noise went straight to Ben’s dick, and his hips jerked. He gasped as his erection rubbed over her panty-clad core, and Rey took advantage of the moment to deepen the kiss, frenching him with enthusiasm.

Ben brought all his neurotic attention to bear on this kiss, focusing on every slight shift of her lips or body, the sounds she made, the patterns her tongue traced over his. Soon, he was mimicking her actions, kissing her back with all the passion in his soul—which was _a lot_ —and Rey melted against him. She sank her fingers into his hair and ground her hips over his erection and made the sweetest little groans every time he kissed her deep or shifted against her, and it was better than anything Ben could have imagined.

When she broke away and sat up, still straddling his hips, Ben was pleased to see her lips were rosy and swollen from his kisses. “Off,” she said, tugging at his black sweater. “These, too.” Her fingers danced down to the button of his jeans, and if was possible for Ben to get any harder, it would have happened right then, but he was already about a 10 on the Mohs scale.

He stripped off his sweater and T-shirt, groaning as Rey unzipped his jeans. He shoved his pants down and kicked them off, then gripped the hem of her T-shirt. “Is this okay?” he asked.

She nodded, and Ben lifted the shirt with trembling hands, gasping when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were small and perfectly shaped, tipped with rosy nipples, and he’d never wanted to touch anything so badly.

Once they were both left in just their underwear, Rey settled back down on top of him, her chest pressed to his as she kissed him sweetly. She was so soft, the softest thing he’d ever held, and Ben stroked her hair and back gently, marveling that he was allowed to touch her.

She shifted away, and Ben chased her mouth, never wanting the kiss to end, but then her pussy rubbed against his clothed erection, and his head tipped back on the pillow as pleasure shot through him. She rocked her hips, smiling down at him as she set a slow, sensual rhythm.

“You feel big,” she said.

“I am.” Worry shot through him. “Is that a problem?”

She laughed as she took another long ride over his length. “No, Ben. That’s not a problem at all. I’m so curious, though. Can I see it?”

She wanted to see his dick? His dick was completely on board with that. “Yes,” he gasped. “I can’t believe… please, Rey. And I want to see you, too.”

She bit her lip and grinned as she scooted back. She tucked her slim fingers into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and eased them down, gasping when his erection sprang free. “Wow,” she said, trailing a finger over his length.

Ben’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the gentle touch. “Need to see you,” he said, reaching for her hips. Except then he realized he hadn’t gotten to touch her breasts yet or pinch her rosy little nipples, and his hands got stuck halfway, hovering between the two objects of his desire.

Luckily, Rey was more capable of direct action. She shimmied out of her underwear, then finished removing his boxer-briefs and tossed both articles of clothing in the corner. When she straddled him again, she was gloriously nude, and Ben gaped as he glimpsed her wet, pink folds below the fluff of dark pubic hair. “Oh my God,” he said, reaching for her with shaking hands. “I need to touch you. Everywhere.”

She sighed and settled on top of his erection, rubbing her pussy over the underside of his dick. She was already wet, and every shift of her hips left streaks of her arousal on his cock. “Then touch me,” she said, grabbing his hands and placing them on her breasts. “Wherever and however you like.”

It was hard to focus when she was rubbing against him, but Ben would be damned if he missed a single opportunity to worship her body. He traced the outline of her nipples, marveling as they tightened further, then plucked at the straining tips delicately. She made a soft, sweet sound, and her hips jerked, so he did it again, pinching lightly before cupping her breasts in his palms. His hands were huge against her slim frame, and he marveled at their size difference as he squeezed and caressed her breasts.

Needing to chart out more of her, he trailed his fingers down her waist to her hips, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the delicate skin at the juncture between her belly and thighs.

She sighed. “Please, Ben. More.” Her voice was more throaty now, and he could only imagine what she’d sound like after she’d been thoroughly fucked.

 _He_ was going to fuck her. He, Ben Solo, certified mess and nervous wreck, was going to fuck the most beautiful woman on the planet. It hardly seemed real.

“Teach me,” he said, running a thumb down to toy with the coarse curls between her legs. “How you like to be touched.” If he had the opportunity to do this with her, he was damned well going to make sure she enjoyed it. He was going to apply every ounce of his focus and attention to detail to making it so good, she would never want anyone else ever again.

Her eyes softened. “Thank you,” she said. “No one… no one has ever asked before. No one’s ever cared.”

“I care,” he vowed, surging up to seize her lips in a ferocious kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and turned, reversing their positions, then settled in the cradle of her hips. “I want to make you come, Rey. Right now and later, too. As many times as you can.”

“Mmm.” She bit her lip. “How do you feel about using your mouth?”

“Positive,” he said immediately. “Very positive.”

Her eyes grew heavy-lidded as she ran her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. “Then get down there, and let me teach you what to do.”

 _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit_. Ben obeyed immediately, settling with his mouth just over her pussy. He spread her folds with his fingers, marveling at his first real look at her. “Gorgeous,” he breathed. She was as delicate here as she was everywhere else, soft and exquisitely formed. He trailed his finger around her entrance, feeling the pinch of worry at how small she was. Would he even fit?

She slid her own hand down to rest at the apex of her sex and started rubbing the small nub there in circles. “Here,” she said. “With your tongue or your fingers, although I usually need a fair amount of pressure to come.”

Ben made a strangled noise and dove in, moving her hand out of the way so he could replace her fingers with his tongue. He licked her clit eagerly, lapping at her, then swirling his tongue around.

Rey moaned and arched her back, then sank her fingers into his hair. “So good,” she said. “You can lick the rest of me, too. Do what feels natural to you.”

What felt natural was getting as much of her taste on his tongue as he could, so he did. He licked her ravenously, kissing her pussy the same way he’d kissed her mouth, and Rey went wild for it. When he bumped her clit with his nose, she let out a filthy-hot sound, so he did it again and again, using his entire face to pleasure her. Soon his lips and chin were slick with her arousal, and he’d never been happier.

“Your finger,” she gasped. “Put a finger in me.”

Ben obeyed, circling her entrance before slowly sinking his finger inside her. She was so small, her inner walls squeezing him tightly. “Oh my God,” he said, marveling at the wet warmth. Her pussy would cling to his cock just like this. “Teach me more.”

She taught him to crook his finger and rub at her G-spot, and soon he was spearing her with two fingers and licking her clit frantically while she rocked against his face and whimpered. “So close,” she said. “Just like that, please don’t stop…”

Ben didn’t stop. He kept up the exact pace and pressure, and then Rey’s thighs snapped around his ears, and she shook all over while her pussy clenched and fluttered around his fingers. She cried out and pulled his hair hard enough to hurt, and Ben loved every fucking second of it. He kept licking, working her through the spasms, until finally she relaxed and pushed his forehead away.

Her pupils were blown as she stared down at him. “Wow,” she said, sounding drunk. “You are a really quick study.”

Ben preened at the praise. Rey had said more nice things about him in the last hour than he’d heard in years. “I was very inspired.”

She giggled. “Come here,” she said, beckoning him. “I want to kiss you.”

She didn’t seem to mind that his lips were still wet with her arousal, and Ben quickly stopped worrying about it. His cock was sandwiched between them, and it twitched with every brush of her wet curls over the sensitive skin.

“What do you want?” she asked when they finally paused for breath. “Do you want me to suck you off? Do you want to have sex?”

Ben made an inarticulate sound and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to come spontaneously at the thought of her pink lips stretched around his cock. “I want both,” he said honestly, “but sex first. If that’s okay, of course. You might not like giving head, and I don’t want to pressure you in any way—”

“Ben.” She pressed a finger to his lips, cutting off the words pouring out of him. “I want to have sex with you, and I want to blow you afterwards, whenever you’re hard again. And then I want to keep doing this all day until neither of us can walk.”

“Okay.” He grinned down at her and rolled his hips, dragging his length over her wet core. Then he remembered something important. “Shit. Do you have a condom? I wasn’t expecting this, and honestly, I’d kind of given up on the whole sex thing, since I hadn’t even been kissed until this morning…”

“I can’t believe I was your first kiss,” Rey said. “You deserve to be kissed thoroughly and often, you adorable man.” As if proving her point, she pulled him into another long, lingering kiss, licking into his mouth and nipping his lower lip. “And no,” she said when they parted again, “I don’t have a condom, but I’m clean and on birth control, so we can do without. If you’re comfortable with that, of course. Or I can go to the drugstore and grab some and we can pick this up again later—”

“No,” he interrupted, hating the idea of being parted from her for even a moment. “You’re not getting out of this bed until you’ve come at least two more times.”

Her eyes crinkled with her smile. “An ambitious man, huh?”

“When it comes to you? Always.” He reached down between them, fisting his dick to guide it to her entrance. “Now?”

She nodded and helped position him against her. “Now.”

Ben’s heart was nearly beating out of his chest. This was it—the moment his life would change forever. He drew a deep breath and started pushing in, groaning as her body yielded to the intrusion. “So tight,” he gritted out as he inched inside. She was taking him, though, bit by bit, her soft, wet flesh parting around him. When he was seated fully inside, the breath rushed out of him.

Rey hummed happily and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You feel so good,” she said, rocking her hips. “I love having you inside me, filling me up.”

Ben gasped. “I’m not going to last if you keep talking like that.” Honestly, he wasn’t going to last long, anyway: pressure was already building in his dick, making him desperate to move.

“You don’t have to last,” she said. “I want you to come harder than you’ve ever come in your life.”

“You first.”

Rey giggled. “Let me worry about that. I want you to focus on fucking me.” She snaked a hand between them and started rubbing her clit, and Ben groaned as her pussy clenched around him.

The drag as he pulled out was exquisite; her pussy clung to him like her body never wanted to let him go. When he surged back in, they moaned in unison.

This was paradise, better than any fantasy—and Ben had fantasized a _lot_. He’d spent what probably added up to years of his life since adolescence imagining what it would be like to have a woman in his arms, to hear her soft cries as he made love to her.

Rey blew every expectation out of the water. She moved with him, hips rolling in time with the tempo he set, and when she wasn’t moaning, she was murmuring the hottest things in his ear. Things like “Yes, fill me up” and “You’re so big” and “I fucking love this, I never want it to end.”

Ben didn’t want it to end, either, but it was going to. He fucked into her harder and faster, unable to resist the urge to claim her roughly. She cried out and stopped rubbing her clit in order to wrap her arms around him. “Angle my hips up,” she said, and Ben shifted a hand down to cup her buttocks and tilt her pelvis up, changing the angle of the penetration.

That must have been the magic key to unlocking her pleasure, because all of a sudden Rey was babbling and groaning and clawing at him while her pussy tightened around him. He kept thrusting, loving the lewd sound of their bodies slapping together, loving the smell of sex in the air, loving the way she sank her teeth into his shoulder as she jerked and shuddered beneath him.

Once he felt the tremors race through her, Ben let go of all control. He pounded into her hard as the pressure in his cock grew unbearable, and then he was coming in hard spurts, a release so monumental his vision briefly whited out. He groaned and gasped, clutching Rey close as he emptied himself into her.

When the orgasm ended, he barely had the strength to pull out and shift off her before collapsing. He was breathing hard, and his head was spinning. “Wow,” he said, staring blankly at the ceiling. It was like he’d been changed on a molecular level, an orgasm-powered alchemical transformation that turned him into a new man.

“Uh huh,” Rey said, snuggling into his side. He slid an arm around her and pulled her close, and happiness washed over him as she rested her cheek on his chest.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my entire life,” he marveled. The cloud of anxiety that hovered over him had lifted, leaving him blissful and at peace. He kissed Rey’s head. “Thank you. That was the best thing ever to happen to me.”

He felt the curve of her smile against his skin. “And it’s all thanks to a broken garbage disposal.”

“And the muffins?”

She giggled. “Maybe the muffins helped, too.”

“I’ll make a better batch later today,” he promised. “Something you’ll like.”

“Mmm.” She kissed his pectoral, then lower, stringing kisses over his torso. “Right now there’s only one thing I’m interested in eating. Should I show you what it is?”

No muffins were made that day, his military corners were thoroughly destroyed, and the kitchen counters would definitely need sanitizing before they were used for food preparation again, but for once Ben Solo didn’t care that his apartment was a wreck. In fact, as he lay on his newly-stained couch with a disheveled Rey cuddled up next to him, he decided he wanted it to be this messy every day for the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fic! Awkward bean Ben deserves all the love and smut in the world, and so do you!


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